The Swim
I love swimming. I remember waking up early in those chilly winter mornings reaching the pool after a shivering ride, taking a shower and that chilly first dip. The first five minutes were the hardest when my body had to produce heat to make up for the what was being so rapidly lost to the water in the pool. But then it got better and then I cold swim and enjoy myself. I set myself daily targets of 10 laps which I gradually increased to 20. I could never manage to lift my head out of water while I swam. So I had to complete a lap before I lost my breath, catch a breath and then go on with the next lap. I would get scared of what would happen if I lost my breath in the middle of the lap in the deep. But still I went ahead and did it. Every day I came back feeling exhausted and refreshed at the same time. Perhaps the most relaxing part of swimming is that my body was horizontal; piercing through the water. So much different from how I spent most of my time on land, standing straight or sitting on chair where the body is straight and erect. For a change the feeling of moving with my body horizontal is exiting. It gave me a peek at how much my body can do. I swam as much as I could and then stopped at the corner bar panting and catching my breath. I enjoyed it when I pushed my body to the limits. And when the limit was reached I would sit back and look at how my body was feeling. Examining it clinically as if it were not a part of me, not caring how well I did I would ponder about how well or badly my body had taken it. Whether it was my calf or my shoulders were hurting badly and which part of my body had performed better than the other. I was happy then examining the details of the event inside my head, without really caring if I did well or not. I felt relaxed, challenged, exited and calm at the same time. There was never a target, but still there was a point in that whole exercise.
I wonder if I can look at my entire life with the same perspective. Situations come and go. Sometimes I react and sometimes I pro-act. And in all this that happens, I wonder why I can’t look at the whole even with just as much detachment as I did when I swam. Perhaps I care more about these events in life than I do about how many laps I can take. But why do I do that? While I swam, if I failed to reach the other end in time before I lost my breath I could drown and even die. I know how remote a possibility that is. But sometime when the instructor is not around these things happen. What is it that made me risk my life happily but makes me miserable when I risk something else. Say my job or my honor among my acquaintances. Why does it make me so miserable when my boss thinks I did a lousy job at something? Why does it take so much of me out? So does it mean I care of these things more than I care for my body? Why can’t I just look at these events as swimming lessons for the mind, risking this and that every now and then? Sitting back after every lap examining how I did, I would say to myself “My ego seems to have taken a beating today” or “Shux! My self esteem is hurting” It may sound funny, but it is not out of the world. But we just don’t live like that. We seem to be far more participating in anything the mind is involved with. Ranting and raging at every false step we make. Trying so hard to look good at everything we do. Perhaps it is because we look at the mind as more of a part of ourselves than the body. And whatever happens to the mind happens to us. We tell ourselves “I am not the body, I am the mind”.